A Gift of Fire
by Locarno
Summary: The backstory behind the Voyager episode "Message in a Bottle," detailing the seizure and retaking of the USS Prometheus, as well as the beginning of Stafleet's search for the USS Voyager.
1. Chapter 1

A Gift of Fire (Part I)

The Capture of the Prometheus and the Discovery of Voyager

TAL SHIAR HEADQUARTES, ROMULUS: STARDATE 51458

Commander Rekar emerged from the turbolift and onto the steel floor of Level 25. Like on most floors of Tal Shiar Headquarters, the lights had been dimmed by at least fifty percent and the walls painted a dark shade of gray. Stepping out of a turbolift there was like stepping into a passageway that led straight to a void. This ominous atmosphere, combined with the building's typically Romulan drabness and dull uniformity, had never appealed to Rekar, and in fact it had disgusted him, but he had no choice but to show up. A handwritten communiqué—the normal Tal Shiar method of summoning—told him to appear before the Committee at 0900.

Rekar walked unhurriedly down the hall. His footsteps seemed to echo, even though the hallway was not big enough to produce such a sound; he could also hear a eerie, barely perceptible hum. He continued walking, seeing only a dark mass in front of him, and he wondered when the hall would end, if it ever did. He had heard stories of the Tal Shiar devising inventive methods of dispatching unfavorable agents, and having someone walk down an endless hall would certainly be inventive, if a bit expensive. It must be just a few more steps—

The two Reman guards seemed to appear out of nowhere, illuminated from above by light fixtures. They flanked an imposing double-door painted with the hawk-like crest of the Tal Shiar. Each held in their hands sharp-tipped pikes taller than themselves, which Rekar knew were ceremonial rather than practical: a Reman could kill with any number of concealed weapons, whether disruptors or knives, or, more effectively, their bare hands. Rekar never cared for the reptilian-like beings, with their elongated craniums and cavernous eye sockets, but he respected their deadliness, and paused immediately.

"Commander Rekar," a voice boomed. It was not from the Remans and was not from any visible communication device.

"I have arrived," Rekar replied, straightening.

"Hold for identity verification scan."

The Commander stood still. There was no sound and no light indicating a scan. He watched the Remans. They stood unblinking, unmoving.

A few moments passed. "Enter," came the voice. The double doors opened, revealing a blood-red, circular door beyond. Rekar stepped through the threshold and the double doors closed behind him like an airlock. The red door then slid open, revealing the Committee Room of the Tal Shiar: the nerve center of the organization, and some said the Romulan Star Empire itself.

In front of Rekar was a half-circle table, seated around which were four High Operatives of the Tal Shiar and at the head, the Chairman himself, Koval. To Koval's left sat Devant, of the Intelligence Committee, as well as Didius, the elderly Senate liaison. To the Chairman's right were Vorick, Director of the Special Operations Division, and Lorema, Director of the Expeditionary Forces. All ten eyes were focused intently on the newly arrived Commander.

"Commander Rekar," Koval said. "We are pleased you found time to make the journey to Level 25." A paper-thin smile appeared on the gaunt and angular face of the Chairman.

"I wouldn't have done otherwise, Chariman," replied the Commander. In fact, he _couldn't_ have done otherwise.

"We have an operation we want implemented very soon, and when reviewing the candidates for leaders, your name stood out. I might add that this list consisted of both active and in-active agents, such as yourself."

"Might I ask the Committee why I was chosen over the other candidates?" Rekar had been on inactive duty ever since the turmoil surrounding the failed attack on the Founder's Homeworld in the Omarion Nebula. The organization was essentially gutted following that incident, and until he was summoned back to active duty a day before, Rekar had been commanding a warbird on the outskirts of Romulan space.

"Your record is exemplary," Lorema answered. She consulted a datapad on the table in front of her. "Service at our embassy on Tzenketh before and during the war, surveillance of the Frunalian System, and of course, the event we find most significant. The raid on the Klingon cruiser three years ago."

"I was most impressed by this mission," Vorick added. As Vorick was Rekar's ultimate superior, both in the present and in the past, this was a good sign. "It was a masterful stroke, seizing a vessel so close to the Neutral Zone. And a _Vor'cha_, no less, one of their most powerful starships."

Rekar was hesitant. "How, may I ask, was it masterful? We were returning from a routine mission when we quite accidentally detected the Klingon ship decloaking. My men decided it was too good an opportunity to miss, so we attacked and boarded the _Vor'cha_. Standard operating procedure." He did not recite the fact that many of his operatives had died trying to pry the ship from the hands of its bloodthirsty Klingon crew.

"It's all in the details, Rekar," Vorick responded. "While you may have caught them spying on the border by chance, the operation to seize the vessel was most calculated. You exploited a sensor blind spot in the wake of their impulse trail, then decloaked right on their stern. Their guard was down. You disabled their shields, then swiftly transported on board, not caring that your vessel had been destroyed by their disruptors." Rekar did not add that his band of Tal Shiar commandos, suddenly without an escape ship, had much incentive to seize the vessel.

"And now," Vorick continued, "Thanks to your efforts, the Empire has a fully operational Klingon cruiser for study."

"Yes, it was quite an operation," Rekar said.

"There's another reason you will be good for our mission." This time it was Devant's turn to praise Rekar. "Any team you've commanded has been required to learn how to operate foreign vessels, especially Federation, Klingon, Cardassian, and Vulcan."

"And we know you yourself are familiar with foreign designs," Lorema finished. Rekar suddenly noticed the way Lorema was staring at him, as if she was studying his reaction to the recitation of his mission. She must've known it was a painful topic for Rekar. He didn't believe she was looking at Rekar with a sense of attraction—there was something else behind her concentrated gaze, but Rekar couldn't place it.

"That is correct," Rekar said. "There was a time when the Tal Shiar taught those things." It was a swipe at the current state of the organization—an organization forced to cut costs, and effectiveness, following the disastrous raid on the Omarion Nebula. Only after the Dominion War had the Senate given the Tal Shiar the right to use military starships, and recruitment levels had yet to recover from the Omarion debacle. "But why does all this qualify me for this particular mission?"

"It qualifies you because now we don't have to look elsewhere," Koval said. "We have you."

The Commander swallowed. "May I ask again what the mission is?"

Vorick was eager to provide the details. "It will be similar to the Klingon operation, only much more…_sensitive_."

"How so?"

"Commander, this is a sensitive time. The Dominion is rampaging through the Alpha Quadrant, and the war is creeping to our borders. Already Romulans have been caught in the crossfire. We have a nonaggression pact with the Dominion, but of course, that could change at any moment. And lest we forget, the Federation looms at the other end of the Neutral Zone, fighting the Dominion and wary of any sort of external assault. Any attack on them might seem like a strike from an ally of the Dominion."

"So the operation involves the Federation?"

"It does," Lorema said.

Vorick continued. "During the occupation of the Bajor Sector by the Dominion earlier this year, our ships kept a close eye on the comings and goings of both belligerents, Dominion or Federation. We were especially interested in the Federation evacuation of the Beta Antares shipyards, just a few light years from Bajor. Starfleet moved all of their uncompleted and new vessels to more secure facilities, but not before we were able to get a glimpse of their designs.

"Our reconnaissance revealed the presence of a new type of Federation starship, one previously unseen and newly launched. We checked with our sources on Antares, as well as within the Federation, and learned that a top secret vessel has been undergoing trials at Beta Antares for some time."

"I see. And what makes this vessel so valuable?"

"It utilizes what is known as a Multi-Vector Assault Mode. It is highly experimental. During combat, the ship will separate into three sections, each operating independently and each with the ability to engage enemy vessels."

"After the retaking of Deep Space Nine," Devant added, "The ship returned to the Beta Antares shipyards. There, we observed one test. It was quite interesting."

"You did this so easily?"

"Rekar, remember that while the ship was highly classified to most of Starfleet, it was not heavily guarded, so as to not draw attention from the rest of the fleet."

"You must know that there are three factors working in our favor here," Vorick said. "One, is that the Federation engineers have already commissioned and thoroughly tested the vessel, meaning there will be no impediment to our operation of it. Second, if the Empire were to gain hold of this vessel, it would allow us to have a ship worthy enough to oppose either the Dominion or the Federation, superior even to our warbirds. Additionally, and most importantly, we would be able to duplicate the Multi-Vector technology and use it on our own vessels."

"Won't the Federation realize we have stolen the starship?" Rekar asked.

"Surely this would mean war!"

"As I said, the mission is sensitive. The way this operation is planned, your team takes the ship, but without letting the Federation know who took it. The vessel would simply disappear, and by the time they sent out a search party, you will be safely across the Neutral Zone."

"But won't Starfleet track it?"

"We have a simple method to combat the threat. Once we reach a secluded system close to the Neutral Zone, the ship will meet with three warbirds and quickly be fitted with a cloaking device. As long as your team prepares the ship beforehand, we can have it installed in minutes. Then, we simply pilot it to Romulus, where the Tal Shiar will make use of it."

"Does the Senate know of this?" Rekar looked straight at Koval, the man always attempting to move up in the government hierarchy, but he said nothing.

Didius, who had until now remained silent, answered. "Obviously, they approve all operations beneficial to the Empire."

Which meant they didn't. Rekar wasn't one to put the Senate before the organization he swore to defend, but he knew the power they wielded. It was they who had diminished the Tal Shiar's strength following the Omarion fiasco, it was they who had approved the nonaggression pact with the Dominion, and it was they who had concluded that it was best to wait until the conflict had drawn its course to join a side. He suspected, though, that they would never approve an action that might lead to war with the Federation, at least not at such a sensitive time.

It seemed as though Vorick read his mind. "The Federation, of course, would never retaliate against us. For one, they would never know we stole the vessel, if all goes according to plan. In fact, they would no doubt assume it was the Dominion. They could not risk opening a new front in the war by coming after us, since it would mean drawing resources away from the Dominion fight. And even if they prevailed in this war—high unlikely, by our estimates—they would be going up against their own advanced technology."

The Committee had laid out a good case for this mission. Rekar did not object to the idea, since maintaining a technological balance with the Federation was always part of Tal Shiar doctrine. Any new technology to the Empire would serve it well, especially in the current, uncertain time. But he still did not believe the mission was feasible, or thoughtfully developed.

"Do you accept, Commander?" asked Koval, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands together. Rekar knew it was wise to answer the Chairman immediately.

"Of course, Chairman." He looked at the other members of the Committee, especially Vorick, who look unusually pleased with himself. After all, he had undoubtedly impressed Koval with his knowledge of the ship and of Rekar. His eyes turned to Lorema, who ever so slightly turned her head to Koval. The Commander knew little about her, and he would be sure to check into her background.

"Exceptional," the Chairman replied. "Then you will proceed to Station Val'reth on Folloss Continent tomorrow at 0800, prompt and prepared for departure. Your team will be selected by us before you arrive, but of course you will be in command of them."

"Thank you, Chairman." Rekar bowed, and turned to the red door behind him. It yawned open, and he exited the Committee Chamber. Rekar briskly went to the turbolift, but he could sense the Reman eyes on his back.

--

STARBASE 400, NEAR THE ANTARES SYSTEM: STARDATE 51460.2

Admiral Sorenson sat facing the viewport, stargazing. He was waiting eagerly for the ship to arrive, and he had scheduled his own lunch break so he could be available during the appointed time. His office communicator buzzed.

"Yes, Groya?"

"Sir, the _Prometheus_ has arrived. They're requesting permission to dock."

"Of course. I'll be right out."

"Yes, sir."

Sorenson composed himself and looked out the viewport. The quad-nacelled, dagger shape of the _Prometheus_ came into view. An excited grin appeared on his aged face. The ship he had spent two decades designing had finally returned to meet its maker, and Sorenson wanted to reciprocate and meet its current owner.

--

Captain Ali Faris opened his eyes once the transporter beam had completely dissipated. He was queasy enough whenever he beamed somewhere, but the fact that Chief Soka had told him the Prometheus was having problems with the pattern buffers made the trip even worse. The transporters were state of the art, yet like all new technologies, they had a few glitches to work out.

Accompanying Faris were Lt. Commander Arlin Chigot, the ship's stately Andorian first officer, and Lt. Lloyd Neave, one of the few helmsmen trained to fully operate the _Prometheus_. The three stepped down from the transporter pad to meet Sorenson's Bolian assistant, Groya.

"Welcome to Starbase 400," Groya said. "We're pleased you could make it."

"Of course," Faris replied. "We wouldn't deprive the Admiral of a chance to view his, uh…brainchild."

"No, you wouldn't. Please come with me, you can wait in the lounge until Admiral Sorenson arrives. It will only be a moment."

Groya led them through the halls of the space station, a massive complex located a few light years from Beta Antares itself. After a few winding corridors, they exited into the lounge of Starbase 400. The lounge was actually more of an atrium, with a bar and a row of replicators on the lower level and balconies on the walls above them. In the middle of the lounge was a holographic Federation crest and the words STARBASE 400; crowding around it were beings of all kinds, whether they were Starfleet crew members, haggling trades, or visiting dignitaries. Groya led the three guests to a table and instructed them to wait.

"The admiral will be down shortly. Feel free to have something to eat."

"Thank you," Faris replied, and the three sat. After Groya left, he looked with amusement at Chigot.

"Some operation they got going here," he said. "So polite. A much better reception than Starbase 92. It seemed like they couldn't wait to get us to leave."

"Maybe it's where they're located," Chigot wondered. "Maybe the further you get from Earth and the more you get into the…how do you humans say it?..._boonies_, the friendlier you become."

"Friendly, maybe," Faris said, "But a whole lot of them end up going crazy out here."

"I think that's Sorenson," Neave said, pointing.

Their heads turned. Admiral David Sorenson, very close to retirement age and with a hairline to prove it, was heading right for them, beaming. All three of them stood, and Faris caught the Admiral's extended hand.

"Captain Faris, I'm honored to meet you."

"Likewise, Admiral. This is my first officer, Commander Chigot, and my Operational Helmsman, Lt. Neave."

"Ah, Operational Helsman! I know that title!" Sorenson squeezed Neave's hand. "Tell me, have you tried out the Multi-Vector—"

"Admiral," Faris interrupted, "We're in a public place."

"Ah yes. Well, then, let's go to my office. The walls don't have ears there."

A few minutes later, the four were standing around the plush office of Sorenson, a spacious suite typical of the Frontier Starbases.

"So, I will finish what I was going to ask. How has the Multi-Vector Assault Mode panned out?"

"Well sir," Neave replied, "They tested the MVAM a few times before it left Beta Antares, and we personally tried it only once, out by Saturn. Destroyed an old drone."

"Did it work?"

"Marvelously, Admiral."

"Wonderful!" Sorenson clasped his hands together. "I can't tell you how thrilled I am that that design is finally paying off."

"What exactly were you involved with, anyway?" asked Chigot.

"Back in the fifties, during the Cardassian War, I was working at Beta Antares to come up with some sort of fast attack ship. We were the first 'dream team' to actually think along those terms, since until that war Starfleet Command discouraged designing warships. Me and Ian Reynolds—you may know of him—came up with the Multi-Vector Mode one night when we were out very late chasing some Antaran girls." The Admiral laughed. "Did you know we drew up those plans in the back of an Antaran bar?"

"I didn't, Admiral."

"Admiral," Faris said, "We stopped by so you could tour the _Prometheus_, if you wanted. Starfleet wants to see how this thing can hold up in combat, and they'll be sending us to the Cardassian border soon. We're on our way to Tileyo to pick up some supplies and some more crew members, but we think we'll be on the front in a few weeks. But we're in now way pressed for time, so feel free to look at it all you want."

Sorenson laughed again. "No, my boy, I don't need to tour it. Spent two decades going touring it. I was there when they christened the hull, NX-59650, twenty years ago…and I was there they cancelled the project after the Cardassian truce, saying there was no need, but I stood on that bridge once again when they had a need to reactivate it. Goddamn Borg. I was ready to take it out when the Sol System was invaded by those beasts last year, but they said it wasn't ready…"

"Are you sure we can't interest you in a look?" Neave asked.

"No, Mr. Neave. There were two things I wanted from this visit: to talk to you and to see the MVAM in action. But I think you can't really do that here, in full view of thousands of personnel, can you?"

"I'm sorry," Faris said.

"Well, when your crew is on leave, maybe we can go out to a secluded system and you can activate it for me. I'm sure it's beautiful." The Admiral put his hands behind his back and looked out the viewport at the sleek shape of the _Prometheus_, completing yet another orbit around the starbase. To Faris, Sorenson seemed lost in thought.

"You know, Captain, Starfleet told me warships would never be viable for the Federation. They said we were peaceful, a glorious union that promoted equality and fraternity. A full-scale war wasn't likely, save with those that could not be reasoned with, like the Borg. The era of politically-oriented conflicts had come to an end."

Sorenson shook his head. "At least we started it when we did. It took them twenty years to complete, and they just barely got it working in time for the biggest war the Federation has ever faced. The _Prometheus_ represents what is needed to win this war—fire, Captain Faris, a gift of fire. Are you up on your Greek mythology, Faris? That's what Prometheus did, stole fire and gave it to the humans. Maybe, just maybe, this technology can help us win this war."

The Admiral turned to Faris. The captain could understand where the Sorenson was coming from, and wouldn't be captain of the ship had he not agreed with the need for an advanced warship. But there was something else in the Admiral's eyes, something Faris couldn't admit he had: passion for war, for the battle, and most of all, for the vessel he helped design.

"Don't you forget," Sorenson said, "That you have the most advanced ship in the fleet. I don't care what they say those Sovvies can do. You make sure that when it comes time to fight those invaders from the Gamma Quadrant, you give them hell. You hear me? Show them what we're made of." By now, he was addressing all three men.

"I will, Admiral," Faris said. He glanced over at Chigot and Neave, and while the Andorian looked somewhat taken aback by the Admiral's speech, Neave seemed to be on the verge of tears in agreement.

"Well, Captain, on your way." He gestured to his office door. "I don't want to keep you anymore. Commander, Lieutenant."

The three thanked him and walked straight out of the office. Sorenson looked out the viewport again, at the Prometheus, just leaving his range of vision.

"What was that about?" Chigot asked. They approached the transporter pad.

Faris smiled. "That, Arlin, is Admiral David Sorenson. Perhaps if you knew what he's been through, you might sympathize."

"I thought he had a great point," Neave said. All three stepped on the pad. At the control console in front of them, the engineer pulled a lever and the transporter beam shimmered to life. Faris took a deep breath.

--

"Welcome aboard, Captain," said Kyle Fisher, Transporter Chief for the USS _Prometheus_. "Looks like we got you back in one piece."

"That you did, Fisher. Thank you."

"Captain on the bridge!"

Faris, Chigot, and Neave exited the turbolift and onto the bridge of the _Prometheus_. Despite it being a warship, Faris always felt cheerful upon entering the bridge of the vessel, plastered in beige and brightly lit by dozens of luminous bulbs. Too many bridges on the modern ships simply had a dark gray tone to them, making one feel like they were flying a tomb with nacelles. Neave took his place at the helm, Chigot at a chair to the right of the crew pit, and Faris dead center, in the captain's chair.

"Alright, let's get on our way," Faris commanded.

"Ahead, one quarter impulse," said Dern, another officer at the helm.

"Sir," Chigot said, "We've cleared the Starbase."

Faris observed his bridge crew. Some were edgy, uncertain about what the next few weeks would bring. This would be one of their last peaceful moments before entering the fray. But he knew they would do their job. They were doing what they knew was right. Maybe Sorenson wasn't strange for being so passionate, after all: they did have the most powerful starship in the fleet, they did have the best technology available, and they were going to send the Jem'Hadar fleeing right back through that wormhole.

"Well," Faris began, "Let's show the Dominion what this little blastboat is capable of. Mr. Neave, set a course for Tileyo, Warp 9.5."

"Yes, sir, setting course for Tileyo." Neave punched a few buttons on his console. "Course laid in, Captain."

Faris sighed. "Let's go."

The USS _Prometheus_, newly-assigned registry NX-74913, shot into warp and vanished from Starbase 400. They would never reach Tileyo.

TO BE CONTINUED…


	2. Chapter 2

A Gift of Fire (Part 2)

NEAR ANTARES SECTOR, STARDATE 51461.8

By all outward appearances, the craft was a compact freighter, unremarkable in design or size. If scanned by another vessel's sensors, it would appear registered as Vulcan, and a scan of the ship's warp trail would confirm it. But it was never intended to be scanned by any ship, for its cloaking device was active and running at full strength, and with any luck, its prey would never be able to get a good enough look at it to declare it a ship of _any_ species.

The _Civish_ was a Romulan scout ship, heavily modified to appear vaguely like a Vulcan freighter, though the resemblance was on the exterior only. Inside, the _Civish_ was brimming with the latest in Tal Shiar intelligence equipment. Its crew of 27 was constantly monitoring subspace channels, warp lanes, and telemetry from the half-dozen micro-probes already launched ahead of the vessel. For nearly two weeks, the crew had been closely following the warp trail of the USS _Prometheus_, awaiting the right opportunity to strike. It was the most time-consuming aspect of their mission, but their hard work would soon pay off.

None of the crew was impatient. None were weary, feeling overworked, or anxious. These were Tal Shiar commandos of Division Four, hand-picked for this assignment by Director Vorick himself. The elite squadron was not known for second-guessing their mission or having doubts about its success. They _knew_ they would succeed—after all, the motto of Division Four was "Succeed or Die."

Commander Rekar had inspected the team prior to their departure from Romulus. He had no reason to doubt their competence or their skill. They were among the best the Tal Shiar could send on such a mission, and had been training for this specific assignment for a long time. He had learnt that one of them was the son of a cousin of Praetor Neral himself, and he was struck by how familiar his second-in-command, Nevala, looked. She was a Subconsul from Peldrad, one of the lesser districts of Romulus, and he was sure she could not have gotten to her position without some inside connection.

Then, while looking through the records on the _Civish_, Rekar had figured it out. She was the daughter of Lorema, the Director of the Expeditionary Forces. Of course, he had thought. That is why Lorema was studying him closely in the Committee Room. She was seeing who would be in command of her daughter. Rekar assumed that, as the daughter of a top official, she was the political officer planted aboard each Romulan vessel to ensure loyalty to the Empire. Even a top-secret ship like the _Civish_, stocked with ultra-loyal party supporters, could not fall outside the range of suspicion. Rekar realized that since Nevala knew the crew well, having trained with them for months, it must be _he_ whom she was supposed to spy on. He had been out of the organization for years, so who knew what he now believed?

It was now just a short time before the operation could commence. Rekar hadn't said anything to Nevala in the past two weeks, but he had wanted to desperately. While sitting in his command chair, supposedly reviewing a battle plan, he was staring at the woman, quietly at her place at the helm.

"Commander," Rekar heard from his left. He glanced over. Major Sorgle, one of the ship's crew, was standing rigidly and stone-faced at his side.

"_Yes_, Major?" Rekar asked, angry his train of thought had been interrupted.

"Our probes have picked up the warp trail of the _Prometheus_ somewhere outside the Antares Sector. It appears they left Starbase 400 with a course toward Betazed."

"Betazed," Rekar repeated. The Federation had been expecting an attack there for months, and had been reinforcing the sector with ships and supplies. There were several probable destinations for the _Prometheus_: Betazed itself, to help with the reconnaissance of Jem'Hadar fleets; Imego, to reinforce the refugee processing camps there; or Tileyo, site of a Federation armory and a major resupply station for vessels. He assumed Tileyo would be the destination.

"Sir," Sorgle continued, "In two days they will be within range of a half-dozen Federation outposts, not to mention the entire Fifth Fleet. We must launch our operation before then."

"We shall do so soon within 24 hours," Rekar responded. He glanced back at Nevala, who had become alert after that declaration.

"Commander, might I suggest 36 hours, to—"

"Why, is the crew not ready?" Rekar asked the lieutenant.

"We are ready!" Sorgle quickly added, somewhat offended. "But in 36 hours, the vessel will be deep within the Argolis Cluster, out of communication with Starbase 400 or the Fifth Fleet."

Rekar chuckled. Maybe this was Nevala's doing. Perhaps she had secretly ordered Sorgle to challenge the commander, and make him appear weak.

"We will attack them within 24 hours, for the element of surprise. I do not want to postpone this any longer. We must capture that vessel immediately, ahead of schedule."

"Yes sir," Sorgle replied, turning back to his station. Ahead of him, at the helm, Nevala stood to face Rekar.

"Commander, if I may speak."

Rekar folded his hands and leaned back in his seat. "Subconsul Nevala, I trust you have no objections to my order."

"I wish to speak with you directly."

Perfect, thought Rekar. He would now be able to gague her true intentions, maybe even ask her about her place on the team directly. But not here, on the bridge, in front of the crew. Best to maintain order.

"Very well. In my quarters."

Rekar's room was located a short walk from the bridge. It was without luxury of any sort: there were no mementos of past battles, pictures of loved ones, or even an emblem of the Tal Shiar on any of the walls; the room was bare of personal objects of any kind. There was a simple bed, a small desk on which sat a communications pad and a notepad for official duties. There wasn't even a replicator, though that was standard on small Tal Shiar vessels: all food was stocked in storage, as a replicator could drain valuable power from the cloaking device.

Rekar and Nevala entered. The Commander sat in the sole chair and put his feet up on the table, a sign of disrespect to Nevala at best. Nevala simply stood.

"Subconsul, you can speak your mind first, but let it be known that I know why you're here."

"And why is that?"

"Your mother is Director Lorema."

Nevala did not flinch. "Of course."

"I should only have assumed the Director of the Expeditionary Forces would've put you in charge of the assault team. One can only guess what your other roles include." He didn't look at her, instead he fidgeted with a laser pen.

"My only mission is to lead the strike team, Commander."

How typical. She would deny it always.

"Perhaps your mission includes…assuaging someone's loyalty to the Empire."

Now Nevala appeared flustered. "Commander, I came here to talk with you about the operation's timetable. In order to ensure Starfleet does not learn about—"

"You are evading the question, Nevala!" Rekar threw the pen to ground and stood. "I do not appreciate having my allegiance questioned, and certainly not behind my back."

He walked over to the viewport and watched the stars zoom by. "I have given everything to the Tal Shiar and seen little reciprocation. Perhaps you know about the incident on the Klingon ship. Two thirds of my team was killed. They put me under review, but fortunately for me the Omarion disaster happened concurrently. The Committee threw me out when cleaning house to look good, instead of throwing me out because they suspected me of cowardice."

Nevala walked over to the commander, lowering her voice. "Perhaps the Tal Shiar wanted to make amends. Perhaps they wanted you to prove yourself, to show you were not a coward. They chose this mission because of your skill, and because you've done this before. What proof do you need that they do not think less of you?

Always "they" Rekar thought.Rekar turned. Perhaps "they" wanted you. "They" chose you. Never "I." Rekar turned. He looked into Nevala's eyes, and saw some sympathy there. He knew she was a spy, but he had decided against confronting her. Perhaps _showing_ was better than _telling_.

"I don't know about proof for me, Subconsul, but the Tal Shiar will assuredly get proof of my capabilities. I am going to take that ship, and deliver it to Koval himself, and we'll see if anyone questions my devotion to Romulus then."

"Yes, Commander."

"Now, about the operation. It will take place in 24 hours. If we wait too long, they will be too deep in the Argolis Cluster for our sensors to work properly and we could lose them. If we attack them soon, their communications will still be hampered by the proto-star distortions. And that, Nevala, is the final word."

"Yes Commander." Nevala gave a slight bow and walked out the doors of his quarters. Rekar was left to smile at a job well done—surely now she would report back to the Tal Shiar that he was a determined and steadfast patriot.

--

USS _PROMETHEUS_, ARGOLIS CLUSTER, STARDATE 51462

"Slowing to one half impulse, Captain," Lt. Dern said. She pressed a few buttons, and the streaks of light outside the window morphed into their stationary dots. The _Prometheus_ returned to cruising speed from Warp 9.7, but only with the intent of navigating the Argolis Cluster. Giant white stars caused sensor distortions, and any ship traveling at high speeds directly through the cluster was risking disaster. Only a slow, steady flight could get them through.

"Nice and easy, Lieutenant," Faris advised. He didn't want to suffer the fate of the Betazoid transport he'd heard about a few months before torn apart by the gravitic anomalies of the proto-stars.

Neave turned in front of him. "The _Prometheus_ is handling steady, sir. No signs of hull stress or warp field disruptions."

"Excellent. Looks like those regenerative shields and albative armor paid off."

It would be several hours of traversing the Cluster, making sure to sidestep all hazards. Once their journey through it was complete, it was just a light year or so before Tileyo and the boarding of the rest of the ship's crew.

--

"There it is!" Rekar pointed to the viewscreen. The _Prometheus_ showed as only a small white dot, but the _Civish_ was closing in on it rapidly.

"Five minutes until we are within range, Commander," Nevala reported.

"Put the commandos on alert. Be prepared to leave at a moment's notice."

"Sir," Sorgle said from behind Rekar, "Even with the distortions, the _Prometheus_ could still send a message to a nearby—"

"Enough!" Rekar yelled. "We have arrived at our target. It's too late to back down now. We'll just have to make sure to disable their communications immediately."

Rekar stood from his seat and walked to the viewscreen, attempting a closer look at the dagger-shaped vessel as it grew larger and larger.

--

All quiet on the bridge. For brief moment, Faris rested his eyes, listening to the hum of the bridge.

The ship decloaked out of nowhere. It was right off the port side of the ship, and the instant it shimmered into realspace it unloaded its disruptors onto the _Prometheus_. The _Civish_'s weapons were not as powerful as the _Prometheus_', but the Romulan ship had both the knowledge of where to target and the element of surprise. Warning lights flickered on the bridge; sensor alarms blared. Faris held onto his armrest, all he could do from being thrown from his seat. Concussion after concussion rocked the vessel, everyone too shocked to say a word, until the firing stopped.

"Report!" Faris bellowed. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know, sir!" shouted Darius Norjeb, tactical officer. "Our weapons are gone, sir!"

"Didn't the regenerative shields work?"

"They weren't at full capacity! We were supposed to strengthen them at Tileyo!"

"Goddamn it!"

At the conn, Dern frowned in puzzlement. "Sir, the ship is registered as Vulcan!"

"Vulcans?" First Officer Chigot scrolled through the sensor log at his own console. "That can't be right!"

"Sir!" Another call, from an Ensign behind Faris. The captain was becoming disoriented. "Someone's transporting into engineering!"

--

The commandos worked fast. With only thirty men against more than twice that number, the operation was going to be trying. Division Four's first goal was to seize Engineering and control of the ship. The first Romulans to beam in opened fire with their disruptors before any of the Starfleet crew even noticed. Five engineers were felled by the green beams in an instant. After the first volley, the remaining crew members dove for cover. A Tiburonian—Chief Engineer Chorax—ran for a console to lock down the warp core. He was killed by a green bolt in the back before he reached it.

A female engineer opened an armory and threw a phaser to a colleague before grabbing one herself. She attempted to fire on the invaders but was immediately cut down from the upper levels of engineering. Her colleague, a young Trill, fired off a volley of bolts and downed one Romulan. He made it all the way to the exit, firing the phaser around the room, but as soon as he reached the door he felt something cold and sharp pierce his abdomen. His last view was that of Nevala pulling a dagger from his own body.

The engineering room was clear. Nevala supervised her men as they sealed the doors began the task of rerouting all control to engineering. Soon, Rekar and the rest of the Tal Shiar commandos would beam over with a neurotoxin to incapacitate the crew and bring them to Romulus for interrogation.

--

"Engineering's breached, sir!" a security tech yelled. Faris wiped his forehead, and a layer of sweat came off.

"Are we safe here?

"I activated auxiliary shielding for the bridge, sir," Neave responded. "It should prevent them from beaming in here, at least until they shut it down."

Chigot opened up a cabinet and pulled out five phasers. He began tossing them around the bridge, to all the crew present. "In case they get up here," he said.

Faris caught his phaser and set it to KILL, hoping it wouldn't come to that.

"Can we engage the MVAM?" Faris asked Neave.

"Negative, Captain. Not if they're in Engineering!"

"Sir!" It was Ensign Norjeb. "One of our phaser banks just came online! It's weak, but it might do some damage."

"Capatin," Dern said, "If they're transporting people over, their shields must be down!"

Without hesitation, Faris knew what he had to order. "Aim at that vessel, now! Fire!"

"Fire!"

--

On the bridge of the _Civish_, Rekar monitored the assault. He didn't want to board with the remaining commandos or the neurotoxin until Engineering was secure. Somewhere to his left, a warning light beeped, and out the viewscreen he saw a flash of red light. The _Civish_ rocked, and nearly catapulted the Commander from his chair.

"What was that?"

"They still have weapons!" Major Sorgle shouted.

"Then disable them!"

The _Prometheus_ fired two more shots, striking both the _Civish_'s nacelles, before a disruptor from the Romulan vessel destroyed the phaser bank.

"Sir, we've lost warp power!" a commando screamed. The hardened Tal Shiar warriors were beginning to show signs of panic.

"Breach in fifteen seconds!" another called.

Rekar stood and adjusted his uniform. It was imperative he remain calm in front of his crew.

"Beam the remaining crew to the _Prometheus _engine room."

The ship rocked, and Rekar remained upright the best he could. It was a repeat of the Klingon incident, but he had no time to reminicse. A warp breach alarm blared, counting down from ten. Rekar never heard it finish, as he and the others were suddenly transported from the dying _Civish_.

--

The explosion rocked the _Prometheus_. The Vulcan ship, or whatever it was, shattered in a brilliant orange ball of expanding gas and plasma. Debris struck the ship, rocking the vessel uncontrollably; Ensign Sorjeb collapsed to the floor, dazed.

"We got it!" Neave yelled.

Faris smiled. "Get a security team to engineering!"

--

The five remaining crewmen and Rekar shimmered onto the engineering deck. The other Romulans, not knowing who was beaming in, had their disruptors drawn, but soon lowered them when they saw their Commander was among them.

"The _Civish_ is gone," Rekar stated matter-of-factly.

"And the neuro gas?" Nevala asked.

"Gone, too. We must fight our way to the bridge."

Rekar faced the assembled men. There were now more than two dozen Romulans crowded around the engineering, all either carrying disruptor rifles or long, thin daggers.

"Show no mercy!" he roared. "Take no prisoners! Succeed or Die!"

The commandos raised their disruptors or daggers and gave out a war cry. Rekar smiled. He hoped the Starfleet men were listening. Nevala leaned in and asked something about whether it would be wise to take some prisoners, but Rekar brushed her off. He wasn't going to leave anyone alive to threaten the operation. This mission, unlike the Klingon one, would be flawless.

--

Security Team One, consisting of five officers carrying state-of-the-art compression rifles, arrived outside Engineering minutes after Faris' order. They lined up outside the main entrance, hugging the walls. One member, Devin, crept toward the door, preparing to place a charge to blast it open. Tricorders could not penetrate the other side, apparently because of some jamming system.

Devin touched the door. Slowly, he attached the magnetic charge.

The door exploded as he stood by it. Hot shrapnel burst into the corridor and peppered the faces of the other four officers One got off a compression shot that missed; the returning disruptor bolts of the Romulans did not. A dozen green beams hit the sternums of the already-shocked men and they all fell to the ground, dead. Nothing remained of Devin.

A squad of Division Four commandos entered the corridor, followed closely by Nevala. Others were cramming into Jeffries Tubes and other access panels in search of a way to seize the ship. Rekar stayed behind in Engineering to monitor the assault from his safe spot.

--

"Has the security team checked in?" Faris asked. He was literally on the edge of his seat, straining for word.

"We lost contact a minute ago, sir," Dern said. Faris noticed her voice quiver.

"Can't we transport these attackers out of there?" Chigot asked.

"No, sir. Our site-to-site transport was damaged in engineering, and anyway, they're using some kind of signal scrambler. We couldn't get a lock."

"Communications?" Faris inquired. "Can we send a distress call?"

"That ship disabled our communications, too," Neave replied. "Plus, they're systematically locking us down from our own ship and rerouting control to Engineering."

Faris rested his chin on his hand. There _must_ be a way.

--

Rekar heard the reports over his communicator: the shuttlebay was easily taken. There was some fighting near the computer core. A grin broke on his face.

--

Ensign Tony Sears braced himself inside Sickbay. He had come down a few minutes earlier to alleviate a simple stomach ache when all of the commotion happened. Someone on the communicator had said that Romulans were taking the ship deck by deck before being cut off. Now, it was simply Sears and Doctor Cowan holding out inside Sickbay.

He had a phaser in his hand and was ready to use it. Doctor Cowan gripped a hydrospanner which she had loaded with a powerful sedative, ready to knock out anyone who came through the door.

But they didn't come in through the door. A green light shimmered behind them. Sears and Cowan whirled to see two Romulans beam into the room, disruptors at the ready. They were quicker at the draw than the two humans. Cowan was killed immediately, her body crumpling to the floor. Sears fired off a shot and missed; he was struck in the cheek, neck, and chest as he tried backing into a closet. He was conscious enough to see the two Romulans search Sickbay for more people, then promptly exit the area. Sears fell into unconsciousness.

--

"Progress?" Rekar asked into the communicator.

"We have most of the ship. Engineering, the shuttlebay, the computer core. We can't use our portable transporters to the bridge; it's shielded. They must have a backup generator up there."

"I'm coming up." Major Sorgle shook his head, insisting against it. He was the Commander, after all, not to get in harm's way—

"When they take the bridge, I want to be there," Rekar snarled, and the major withdrew. He walked out of Engineering, a disruptor pistol holstered at his side.

--

"A probe!"

Faris, conferring with Chigot, turned to Neave. "What did you say?"

"They haven't locked down our ability to fire a probe. Maybe they thought that was connected to the torpedo launchers, but not on this ship. I can modify a probe to broadcast a distress call and send it into space."

"Do it!"

--

Nevala opened the door. Before her was the vast computer core, the multi-leveled cylinder containing the memory of the entire ship. It hummed and blinked, and Nevala could feel a slight warmth emanating from it. Sensor scans indicated a spike in power levels at the top level of the core, which was directly underneath the bridge. This indicated the possible location of the bridge shield generator. Shutting that down would remove the last obstacle to taking the entire vessel.

The Subconsul surveyed the scene. In front of her was the computer core; to her left and right were other corridors. Not an officer in sight. They probably evacuated earlier, in typical Starfleet fashion. Cowards. Always running when—

A bolt of red whizzed by her head and exploded against a bulkhead. A Starfleet officer remained, it seemed. Nevala stepped back into the corridor behind her. The commandos who had been trailing Nevala returned fire in the direction of the shots, in the passageway to the left. She could hear the footsteps of the Starfleet officer on the metallic surface, heading to a new area for cover. With a wave of her hand, she motioned her men forward. Showing no signs of fear, they did so, disruptors at the ready. They went left into the corridor and turned right at the T-shaped junction at the end. Nevala went left.

A burst conduit was venting steam into the passageway; the lights were dimmed. Perhaps some of the commandos had been here before and a firefight happened. Nevala slowly walked down the corridor, listening to the clang of the boots of her team. There was a whoosh of a phaser, then disruptor fire, then another phaser blast. She wondered what was happening. She pulled out her own disruptor, anticipating someone to come running down the corridor ahead of her.

A clang in the walls. Something was moving. It was then she noticed the Jeffries Tube. It opened, and a dark-skinned Starfleet officer crawled out, his back to Nevala. He was holding a phaser, aiming it in the tube, and had burns on his right arm. He fired one shot down the tube , then crawled out, obviously thinking he had eluded his pursuers.

"Halt." Nevala commanded. The officer did, startled. "Drop your weapon or I will kill you right here."

He did so. Hands raised, he turned to look the Romulan in the eyes. There was banging in the walls. Her Tal Shiar was coming for him through the Tube.

"If they open the door and see you, they will kill you. I will not. You must first tell me where I can turn off the bridge shields."

"I…don't…know…" he stuttered through the bursts of pain from his wounds.

"You know where it is," Nevala said. "Tell me. They will be here soon."

"I…it…the shield generator…"

"Yes? Tell me!"

A breath of air. The officer winced. "Section 2-A. Right…above...the core. Authorization…Charlie Beta….Two…Beta."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

She shot him without another word. As he slumped to the ground, the Jeffries Tube opened, and his Romulan pursuers came into view.

"To Section 3-A," Nevala commanded. "Now."

--

Frantically, Lt. Neave typed in the instructions on his console. It was tough, but he had managed to bypass some of the locks the invaders had slapped on his controls. He couldn't believe he was locked away from his own ship! And it was the most advanced in the fleet, at that! A shadow passed over his console—it was Captain Faris, leaning in to observe.

"Whaddya got?" the captain asked.

"Not much. I've imprinted a short subspace message onto a Class VI Probe. The first to hear it should no doubt send help. I just hope the signal can break out of the Argolis Cluster."

"It had better," Faris said. "Or we're as good as dead. Do it, Lieutenant."

Just as Faris uttered those words, the lights flickered. The soothing female computer voice activated.

"Warning: Auxiliary Bridge Shielding at Fifty Percent."

"They're coming in!" Dern shouted.

Neave frantically typed on his console. The short message he put in was the ship's coordinates, then "_Prometheus_ attacked. Send help immediately." No time for anything else. He sent the command into the computer to launch.

Outside, a flicker of light emanated from the _Prometheus_, and a sleek Class VI probe darted from the vessel into deep space.

"It's away!" Neave shouted. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, the last of their lifetimes.

The lights shut off, and the computer voice calmly announced "Auxiliary Bridge Shielding Failed."

All those present grabbed their phasers.

Four Romulan operatives transported onto the bridge, each on opposite sides of the room. They immediately let loose with their disruptors. Norjeb was struck before he even got up from his seat at Tactical. His station exploded in a shower of sparks. Neave was able to at least raise and aim his phaser before two disruptor bolts met at his cranium and ended his life.

Chigot grabbed a Romulan, but was instantly struck in the stomach and head with the commando's rifle butt. He was executed as he lay injured on the ground. Dern ducked behind conn, getting off a phaser shot and hitting a Romulan square in the chest. She was finished off with a disruptor bolt to her back.

Faris, too, had gotten off a shot, but it had missed its target. The captain was struck by four disruptor bolts in his legs, then two in his chest. The Romulans had taken careful consideration to wound, but not kill, the man they knew as the captain.

A fifth Romulan transported onto the bridge. Rekar. He strolled over to the captain, on the floor and curled up from his agonizing burns.

"I'm here to take your vessel," Rekar quietly told the human on the floor.

Faris coughed and then looked up at his attacker. For the first time, he identified the assailants as Romulans.

"They'll find you, you bastard," Faris said through clenched teeth.

Rekar smiled. "I doubt it. But they certainly will never find _you_."

Rekar set his disruptor to Maximum, aimed it at Faris' head, and pulled the trigger. All that remained of the captain was a scorch mark on the carpet.

"Disintegrate the bodies," Rekar told his crewmen. "I don't want the stench of them overtaking our work." He plopped down into the captain's chair. Nevala arrived on the bridge, via the turbolift. She surveyed the damage through arched eyebrows. Rekar believed she was impressed.

"Take a seat, Nevala," the Commander told her. "Enjoy your new position as second-in-command on the IRW _Prometheus_."

--

Some hours later, Ensign Sears was jolted back into consciousness by the sound of a voice. He was in so much pain he couldn't clear make out what it was saying, but it didn't sound Romulan. The tone wasn't right. He winced at his burns, unable to make a sound.

Suddenly a hand cradled his head. He moaned. The figure went away, then came back and pressed something to his neck. His head lifted up. For a moment, everything became clear and Sears looked into the eyes of a balding human wearing one of the old-style medical uniforms.

"Try to lie still. You have severe phaser burns. What happened here?"

Sears coughed. "Romulans. They've taken over the ship…" Sears gurgled, the pain much too intense now. His head fell back to the floor and everything went dark.

In the sickbay of the USS _Prometheus_, the EMH Mark I watched the Ensign die with a pained look. He wondered, with the amount of fear his programming would allow, what he had walked into.

TO BE CONTINUED...


	3. Chapter 3

STARBASE 400, STARDATE 51462

"Admiral, we picked up a distress signal."

David Sorenson turned. He'd been reviewing the manifests of the half-dozen starships visiting the starbase when Groya told him to come to the command post immediately. He rushed there as fast as he could. "From who, Groya?"

"The signal came from a Class VI probe. As far as we can tell we're the only Starfleet outpost to receive it. It's from the _Prometheus_, sir."

Sorenson froze. No, he thought. It _can't_ be from them. "Play it."

Groya tapped a few buttons on his control panel. The recorded message began playing.

"_Prometheus_ attacked. Send help immediately."

"Is that it?" Sorenson asked.

"I'm afraid so, Admiral."

Sorenson gritted his teeth and turned to face the rest of the command post. Most of the officers in the room were listening in, eager to learn what had happened to the ship. They could see the admiral was visibly upset. Sorenson recognized the voice on the call as that of Lieutenant Neave, whom he had met just a week earlier and one of the few people trained to operate the _Prometheus_. But Sorenson was baffled why they would send such a succinct distress message. And from a probe, too, rather than over subspace. It was almost as if…

"They did send us their coordinates, too, sir," Groya said, interrupting the admiral's train of thought.

"Where are they?" Sorenson leaned over Groya's shoulder as the Bolian punched up the _Prometheus_' location.

"That's at the outer edges of the Argolis Cluster, sir."

"Good God. The Jem'Hadar must've ambushed them as they entered the Cluster. That whole sector's a hazard for sensors and warp travel; the _Prometheus_ probably didn't even detect them."

"Sir, we don't know who attacked them."

"Well, who _else_ would it be?" Sorenson walked over to a terminal on the other side of the room. The ensign manning it kindly stepped aside, and Sorenson began typing furiously. His mind was thinking only of the USS _Prometheus_, the ship he had helped design, and what had happened to it. After a few seconds, Sorenson brought up on the screen a map of the Argolis Cluster and input the coordinates relayed in the distress call. A blip appeared representing the _Prometheus_, and other blips popped up indicating nearby starships.

"According to our logs, the nearest vessel is the USS _Bonchune_. It's currently on reconnaissance duty in the sector. Commander Groya, give them orders to track and intercept the _Prometheus_."

"Yes sir."

Sorenson turned to go to his office, then stopped. "Tell the _Bonchune_ that if anything's amiss, that if they hail the ship and no one responds, then they are to fire upon the ship and disable it, and wait for further assistance."

"Sir?"

"The Jem'Hadar have been known to capture starships. Board 'em and take out the crew. By God, I'm not going to have the Jem'Hadar in possession of our most advanced ship."

"Yes, sir."

"And send a subspace message to Tileyo. Tell them to send some ships to follow the _Bonchune_. I want as many vessels in hot pursuit of this dreadnought as we can muster. If the Jem'Hadar have learned how to operate the Multi-Vector Assault Mode, we're in for a tough fight."

"Yes, sir." Groya got up from his post and went to Communications to relay the message. Sorenson turned to his office. The _Prometheus_? Attacked? Or worse…captured? This merited a drink, and it wasn't going to have synthehol.

USS _BONCHUNE,_ NEAR ARGOLIS CLUSTER

Captain Alexis Hurt, 51, let go of the gymnastics bar as soon as she was hailed. She always worked out in the morning before reviewing the _Bonchune_'s latest sensor logs; it helped her relax before the long day of tedium ahead. She was remarkably fit, especially for her age, a factor which she believed had impressed her superiors and gotten her command of the _Bonchune_—though she'd wished for a little more action. Since taking command two years previously, she'd done nothing but make sensor sweeps of areas with suspected enemy activity, whether it was Klingon, Cardassian, or Dominion. No action for months.

Hurt tapped a communications screen mounted on the gym wall. Maybe this was the call she was waiting for.

"Priority message from Starbase 400," Lieutenant Reynolds relayed over the viewscreen.

"Put it through."

The screen changed from Reynolds to reveal Groya, Admiral Sorenson's personal assistant.

"Captain Hurt," Groya said.

"Commander Groya." They were both familiar with each other, the _Bonchune_ having undergone a retrofit at Starbase 400 some weeks earlier.

"What I am about to tell you, Captain, is highly classified. We have reason to believe the USS _Prometheus_, one of our most advanced starships, was attacked somewhere near the Argolis Cluster approximately one day ago."

"The Dominion?"

"We don't know, but we're assuming so. Admiral Sorenson has ordered the _Bonchune_ to find the starship and ascertain what exactly has happened to it."

"Has their been any contact with the _Prometheus_?"

"Only a distress call a few hours old."

Hurt said nothing for a moment. This would finally be a chance for action, to actually be a part of this war. She just wished it was under different circumstances.

"How can we find it?"

"We're sending you their last known coordinates. Our observation posts have lost track of the vessel, but we believe if you modify the range and frequencies of your long-range sensor scans, you can detect its warp trail and locate it. We don't know if it's been captured, crippled or destroyed." Groya's face changed from neutral to grave.

"We'll do our best, Commander."

"Oh, one more thing, Captain. The use of deadly force is authorized. If you must fire on it to disable it, so be it. And if you have no choice but to destroy the ship, then you must do so. The ship must not be allowed to fall into enemy hands—and you must be wary yourself. A _Nebula_-class ship is no match for this monster."

"Thank you, Commander."

The communication ended. Hurt could say or do nothing for a moment. One minute she was excited about a chance to prove herself as a captain, the next minute that feeling had all but evaporated. She had been told to fire on a Starfleet ship if threatened—indeed, to destroy that ship and any crew member aboard if necessary. She shuddered, and hoped it wouldn't come to that—or if it did, it was the only option available.

She left her workout unfinished and went to her quarters to change and go straight to the bridge with their orders.

USS _PROMETHEUS_, NEAR ROMULAN NEUTRAL ZONE

The _Prometheus_ was far from Argolis now, cruising steadily at Warp 9.5 straight to the Romulan Neutral Zone. Rekar had ordered the probe emitting the distress call destroyed immediately, but unfortunately too late to prevent it from sending out dozens of messages. The captured vessel was now proceeding in the direction of Romulus, though Rekar had his own plan in mind: instead of meeting Subcommander Almak and the _T'Met_ in the Neutral Zone as planned, he had told them to wait at a new location inside the Alpha Quadrant. Rekar wanted to disappear as quickly as possible.

The bridge was silent. Rekar surveyed the scene with pleasure: he was firmly in command, having shown his bravery and efficiency against the humans and proving his competence as a commander. He was no coward. He hoped Nevala, the Tal Shiar political officer on board, would realize the power he commanded. After all, he was now the most powerful Romulan captain in the Empire…perhaps if the Tal Shiar did not recognize him as the capable commander he was, the _Prometheus_ could be used as a powerful tool of persuasion.

An alarm broke the commander's concentration.

"Commander," Nevala said, "there's a vessel approaching on an intercept course. It's Starfleet."

"I told you to mask our warp trail!" Rekar screamed.

"I'm trying. These new systems are unfamiliar. We should have left some of the crew alive." Nevala had hoped one of her men could operate the ship, but they were having trouble learning the new, advanced Federation systems.

"You'd be surprised how stubborn humans can be."

"The Starfleet ship is closing."

"Raise shields," Rekar told the bridge, "and prepare to fire phasers."

USS _BONCHUNE_

They had modified their sensor pod to pick up the _Prometheus_' faint but visible warp trail. Whoever was operating the ship had gone to great lengths to mask it, but they hadn't quite succeeded. Sensors showed ship was headed straight for the Beta Quadrant, which Hurt had thought was odd.

On the viewscreen, Hurt could see the _Prometheus_ grow as they moved closer, matching its warp speed. She knew the decisive moment was coming, the moment when they would find out just what happened over there.

"Are we within hailing distance?"

"Yes, Captain," said Lieutenant Reynolds.

"Hail them."

The hailing chimes rung.

"This is Captain Alexis Hurt of the starship _Bonchune_. _Prometheus_, please respond."

There was no response. The _Prometheus_ continued, showing no sign it had received the message.

"_Prometheus_, respond or you will be fired upon."

"Captain," Reynolds said, "their communications system appear to be switched off—I don't think they're receiving."

"Why would they do that?"

"Captain, there's something else…I've scanned the ship. I'm reading only 27 life signs…all Romulan."

Hurt's eyes widened. Romulans. It wasn't the Dominion who'd taken over the ship, it was the Romulans. And the Federation had been lobbying to get them to join the war _against_ the Dominion!

"Lieutenant, prepare to fire. Take out their shields, then their weapons."

"Aye aye, ma'am."

The _Prometheus_ rumbled as a phaser hit their aft. The Starfleet vessel was firing. Another shot him them, then a third, striking the ship's bow, and causing a large jolt to shake the vessel.

"Shields are holding." Nevala calmly reported.

"Engage the Multi-Vector Assault Mode." Rekar relished this opportunity.

"That system has never been tested!" Nevala pleaded. The commandoes had been unable to decipher the coding surrounding the weapons system, and there had not been time to test it out.

"Then we'll test it _now_!" Rekar was growing frustrated with the woman.

The ship rocked again. A warning light indicated shields had deteriorated further.

Nevala still hesitated. Rekar saw no movement. He stood up like a Livonian bear on its hind legs.

"I gave you an order; I expect you to follow it. Multi-Vector Assault Mode. _Now_!"

"Yes, Commander." Nevala pressed a few buttons. Rekar felt another triumph, a further validation of his authority. The lights dimmed; a Blue Alert began.

The Computer Voice said in a monotone, "Auto-separation in ten seconds…"

--

"Something's happening with the _Prometheus_!" Reynolds yelled. "I'm detecting some kind of power surge…"

Hurt knew instantly what it was.

"Brace yourselves!"

--

What was once the intact, dagger hull of the _Prometheus_ split as if sliced by a hot knife. The saucer section, Section Alpha, went first, deploying two nacelles for power; the secondary hull then split in half itself, the bottom (Beta) and middle (Gamma) sections each having two nacelles for power. There were now three independent weapons ships facing the _Bonchune_.

"We're in attack formation," Nevala reported to Rekar. The Commander was now standing over her shoulder, watching her every move. "Each section is armed and responding to our command."

The ship rocked from another phaser blast. An explosion at a console in the back knocked Major Sorgle to the ground, injuring him. Nevala noticed it; Rekar did not.

"Attack Pattern Beta 4-7!" Rekar commanded.

"Specify target," responded the incessant Computer Voice.

"The Starfleet Vessel! Bearing One Six Two Mark Seven!"

"Pattern and target confirmed."

The three _Prometheus_ sections slowed, letting the _Bonchune_ pass them in warp. Section Gamma fired first, then Section Beta, then Section Alpha. All three phasers found their mark on the weakest point of the vessel, in the aft near the dorsal sensor pod. Section Gamma fired again, hitting the targeted spot and causing a huge explosion to rupture out of the back of the _Nebula_-class starship.

"Damage report!" Hurt yelled.

"Our sensor grid is offline!" shouted Reynolds. "They hit us pretty bad. We can't maintain this speed!"

"Lieutenant, get us out of here!"

"Aye, Captain!"

The _Bonchune_ peeled off from its three attackers, quickly dropping out of warp.

--

"I think we should consider that a successful test!" Rekar boasted. "Begin the reintegration sequence, and give me a full damage report!"

"Yes, Commander." Nevala did so, but heard the gasp of the wounded Sorgle to her left. She stood up and walked over to help the man, burned on his face and crawling on one hand. Rekar noticed this as he sat back down. Did this woman really care that much about her men? Frankly, it sickened him. Her post was at the conn, not attending to some scratches.

"He's hurt," Nevala said.

"Take him to the medical bay!" he shouted back. Rekar reasoned that it would be good if Nevala were off the bridge.

Major Sorgle climbed on Nevala's shoulder for support, and the two entered a turbolift.

In sickbay, Nevala stepped over the body of a dead Starfleet officer without flinching. She set Sorgle down on the table, gently. She had trained with him for months and wasn't about to see one of them suffer on bridge. She would—

"Please state the nature of the medical emergency."

Nevala straightened, startled, almost reaching for her disruptor. But the voice was only from the Emergency Medical Hologram.

"Who activated you?"

" You did, automatically, when you entered sickbay." The EMH walked over to a tray and pulled out a medical scanner.

"Can you treat him?"

"Of course, that's my function." Nevala regarded the hologram as he scanned the major. He was balding, seemed rather curt, and oddly, programmed with the old blue medical uniform Starfleet discontinued a year ago. Starfleet must not have reset their medical holograms.

"Third-degree burns, hairline jaw fracture, and a ruptured blood vessel in his brain. I'll have to operate."

"You're a Starfleet program. Why should I trust you?"

"I'm a doctor. Whether my patient is human, or Romulan, I'll do everything in my power to save him. You're welcome to assist me if you like, or maybe you'd just prefer to supervise." The doctor carried over a tray with medical tools. Nevala regarded them, but had no knowledge of what he was doing.

" Report to me when you're finished."

As she left, she heard a somewhat unusual "Mm-hmm" from the hologram.

Captain Hurt surveyed the damage, staring out into space in front of a blown away deck; an emergency force field all that stood between her and the void. A total of 18 crewmen had been killed in the attack, and at least 30 others were injured. Those were a lot of letters she would have to write. She had been told some good news—that the sensor array was easily put back online and they were able to track the _Prometheus_ long enough to get a good bearning on its location—but somehow all that seemed so trivial. Members of her crew had _died_.

A chime to her right. She stopped staring at the stars and pressed the comm button.

"Captain here."

"We're getting a call from the USS _Spector_."

"Patch it through."

The image changed to a balding man in his late thirties, staring right back through subspace. Captain Hagan, stationed on Tileyo, was commander of the _Akira_-class USS _Spector_.

"Captain Hurt, I understand you clashed with the _Prometheus_."

"That is correct. We sustained significant loss of life and moderate damage.."

"I'm sorry, Captain. I really am."

Hurt composed herself. She didn't want to break up over subspace. "Captain, I assume you understand that Romulans have taken over the _Prometheus_, not Jem'Hadar."

"Your message earlier said that, yes. This is a grave diplomatic incident, among other things."

"Yes, it is."

Hagan paused. Hurt could tell he didn't know when to start talking business, seeing as she was still in shock from the loss of so many of her crew.

"What was it you wanted, Captain?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"I need two things, Captain. I need the trajectory of that ship and an analysis of the Multi-Vector Assault Mode."

"Consider it done."

"If there are Romulans on board, I expect the High Command to try to escort the ship across the Neutral Zone. I'm not going to allow that to happen. I'm bringing the _Gambit_ and the _Sentinel_ along with me and we're going to try to stop anything that prevents us from taking that ship before it reaches Romulus."

"Of course. Captain, do you plan to destroy the _Prometheus_?"

Hagan again paused, looked away very briefly, then returned his gaze to Hurt.

"If, like your message said, there are only Romulan life signs on that ship, then I think we can infer that the crew is all dead. In that case, I have no qualms about destroying the vessel, if that's what it takes."

Hurt straightened. "Of course, captain. Good luck."

"Thank you. I'm sorry about your crew, but remember that they laid down their lives for the Federation. If you hadn't followed the _Prometheus_ and confronted them, we might've lost their trail. That took some courage, Captain."

"Thank you, Captain."

Hagan signed off. Hurt smiled for the first time, knowing that she had, in fact, proven her ability to command. She hoped those crewmen hadn't died in vain. Hurt walked down the corridor, away from the gaping hole in the hull of her ship and back to the bridge.

The turbolift opened. Heads turned and all eyes focused on the Starfleet EMH which had just walked onto the bridge.

"There you are, Doctor," Nevala said. "Have you completed the surgery?"

"Yes, your friend is recovering nicely." The EMH walked up to Rekar. "However, I found something disturbing in his bloodwork. It seems that he's been exposed to a nasty strain of the Torothka virus, and if he was, you may all have been. I've come to run some scans."

"No one here is sick," Rekar said firmly.

"Not yet. I understand the stomach cramps are unbearable, although some say the rash is worse."

This was not something Rekar needed. The EMH did not seem at all fazed by their presence. Evidently, he was not programmed with any emotional functions…besides peculiarity. Rekar was extremely suspicious.

"Conduct your scans," Rekar snarled and the Commander walked to the center of the bridge as the EMH began scanning behind them.

"How far are we from our border?"

"At our present velocity," Nevala answered, "40 minutes."

"Alter our heading to 118 mark 26."

"That will take us off our course to Romulus."

"There's been a change of plans. We're not going straight to Romulus—we're delivering it to Subcommander Almak at the _T'Met_ first. Once we rendezvous with him we'll examine the ship before its final delivery to the High Command."

"But we must first cross the Neutral—"

"You have your orders!"

She backed off. Excellent, thought Rekar. Once again, he had outsmarted the Tal Shiar's political goon. He turned back to his seat, and noticed the EMH was fiddling with the environmental controls.

"What are you doing?"

The EMH quickly stopped and held up his tricorder. "I'm checking the biofilters for evidence of the virus."

Rekar grabbed the tricorder and examined it. There was no data on it. "You haven't taken any readings at all!"

The hologram tapped the tricorder, as if it were faulty. "Hmmm," was his only response.

Minutes later, Rekar and Nevala had dragged the EMH to a conference room. The Starfleet program was seated in a chair, and Rekar circled him like a Tarkalean hawk.

"What else have you done to this ship?" he demanded. "I will deactivate you unless you start answering my questions."

"If I answer them you'll very likely deactivate me anyway, so I fail to see the point."

Insolence! And to a Commander of the Romulan Tal Shiar. Rekar knelt down beside the EMH.

"You are nothing but a computer-generated projection. I find it hard to believe you're capable of taking these actions independently."

"How flattering," it responded.

"Tell me who is operating your program. Is it someone on this ship? A Starfleet crewmember we missed, or one of my own men?" He thought of Nevala, of the games she would pull. She went down to sickbay…he came up afterward…

""Paranoia is a way of life for you, isn't it?"

Rekar stood, wondering if an EMH could feel pain—he wanted desperately to find the answer to that question, but just then a door opened and Nevala arrived, padd in hand.

"The computer log shows the ship received an optronic datastream transmission approximately six hours ago. It contained a holographic subroutine."

"Who sent it?"

"Unknown. The data pattern had a Starfleet signature." They both looked at the EMH.

"So, Starfleet has managed to sneak a holographic operative aboard," Rekar said. "Very clever."

"Were you only sent to spy on us," Nevala asked, "or does your mission include sabotage?"

The EMH sighed. "The datastream you detected came from an alien sensor network. It transferred me from a Starfleet ship in the Delta Quadrant."

"The Delta Quadrant? That's absurd."

Rekar stood up, having had enough. "This is pointless."

"I couldn't agree more," the EMH said, and began to stand, when Nevala pushed his shoulder back onto the seat.

"Maybe there's a better way to retrieve information from a hologram. I suggest a complete algorithm extraction. We can analyze his subroutines _one by one_."

"Proceed," Rekar ordered. He'd never tortured a hologram before, but it would certainly be a delight.

Nevala leaned over a console and began tapping buttons.

""Isn't there some kind of convention regarding the treatment of prisoners?"

She ignored him. Before she could set up the alogrithim extraction any further, a hissing sound emanated from a ventilation shaft, and Nevala gasped for air. Rekar himself looked up to see gas escaping from a vent. No doubt it was some kind of toxin! Rekar turned to the EMH, knowing he was behind this, but the commander was soon clutching his throat and gasping for air, and in a few seconds, he fell unconscious onto a couch.

Long-range sensors indicated the _Prometheus_ stopped in a sector a few light years from the Romulan Neutral Zone. The ship had unexpectedly made a turn to this sector, brining the ship considerably closer to the Starfleet task force assigned to retrieve it. It was a stroke of luck that Captain Hagan of the _Spector_ had rejoiced at, but his celebration did not last long: long-range sensors also picked up three _D'deridex_-class warbirds on course to intercept the _Prometheus_.

Hagan ordered all ships to power weapons. The two _Defiant_-class ships flanking the _Spector_, the _Gambit_ and the _Sentinel_, had not yet been tested in combat. This battle would prove their worth.

"Charge weapons." The officer to the right of Subcommander Almak did as he was told, and the _T'Met_'s disruptors began to heat up. On the viewscreen, the _Prometheus_ hung in space, exhibiting no signs of activity except for the recent charging of its shields. Almak grew uneasy. If they didn't hurry up, Starfleet was going to intercept them and ruin the entire operation. They were already behind schedule; he needed to beam the team on board to install the cloaking device _immediately_.

"Hail them."

"A channel is open, Subcommander."

"This is the warbird _T'Met_ calling the _Prometheus_. Commander Rekar, respond. Commander?"

There was a long pause.

"This is the _Prometheus_," came a deep voice from the other end.

"Activate your viewscreen."

"Our viewscreen is not operational. We had some trouble with Starfleet commandoes."

The voice sounded nothing like Rekar. Almak was suspicious, and worried. There were still only 27 Romulan life signs on board, but that meant little.

"Where's Rekar?"

A long pause.

"In the medical bay. He suffered minor injuries."

"Identify yourself!"

"You first."

What? He couldn't possibly have heard what he just heard.

"This is Subcommander Almak. Lower your shields and prepare to be boarded."

"They're already down. Maybe there's something wrong with your sensor readings. You'd better not try to transport until we can be sure it's safe."

Almak now _knew_ something was up. Perhaps Rekar had been deposed, or perhaps he wanted the _Prometheus_ for himself! He decided to give one last warning. "Lower your shields immediately or I'll open fire!"

"Immediately?" came the response. "Yes. _Prometheus_ out."

Rekar shook his head. "Take out their shields!"

"Yes, sir."

A disruptor blast from the _T'Met_ struck the _Prometheus_.

"Keep firing!"

"Sir!" a crewman yelled. "Three Federation ships approaching!"

The _Spector_, the _Gambit_, and the _Sentinel_ emerged from warp just a few kilometers from the _Prometheus_ and the four warbirds. Immediately, the _Gambit _and the _Sentinel_ unloaded a volley of their pulse phasers onto the assembled ships. The _Prometheus_ was hit first, shimmering their shields, while the three warbirds were then strafed. The Romulan warbirds, caught off guard by this attack, swiftly recovered and moved to attack. They responded with disruptor fire, illuminating the immediate area with orange and green light.

Hagan, on the bridge of the _Spector_, noticed that the _Prometheus_ was simply sitting dead in space, almost listing. As explosions rocked the vessel, he turned to an ensign for information.

"Why isn't the _Prometheus_ firing at us?"

"I don't know, sir," he cried. "It still shows Romulan life signs!"

"All the better, I guess. Focus on those warbirds!"

A Romulan disruptor struck the underbelly of the _Prometheus_, rocking the ship. The Federation ship responded with a volley of torpedoes from the ventral launcher, knocking out the warbird's disruptor placement. The other two warbirds unleashed torpedoes and more disruptor fire on the two smaller _Defiant_s, but the ship's maneuverability prevented them from taking any serious damage. Both the _Gambit_ and the _Sentinel_ focused on the weaker of the three warbirds, which had its shields reduced to 30 percent.

Out of nowhere, the previously inactive _Prometheus_ came to life. A single photon torpedo shot out from the tubes and flew—very slowly and haphazardly—into the underside of the _Sentinel_.

"They're not even trying!" Hagan's first officer yelled to his captain.

"Maybe they can't work out the systems. Focus on the warbirds!"

The _Spector_ unloaded a line of torpedoes onto the warbird with the lowest amoung of shielding, reducing it further. It fired its disruptors furiously at the _Spector_, but without taking the time to target. Some impacted on the Starfleet ship, causing minimal damage, but the lack of aim suggested the gunners were getting desperate. The _Sentinel_ followed closely behind and sent a few quantum torpedoes into the green behemoth's starboard nacelle.

"That one's almost down!" Hagan shouted. "Concentrate on it!"

Without warning, the _Prometheus_ engaged the MVAM. Hagan and his crew watched in awe as the ship separated and aimed straight for the crippled warbird. Section Alpha and Section Gamma fired their phasers into it, an action followed by multiple ruptures in the Romulan vessel's hull. The _Gambit_ delivered the _coup de grace_ with a torrent of pulse phaser fire; the warbird exploded in a tremendous orange fireball, scattering debris throughout the area.

"Whoa, that got 'im!" Hagan screamed. "Way to go, _Prometheus_!"

Almak couldn't believe what he'd seen. Never before had Starfleet ships destroyed a _D'deridex_ class warbird! And somehow, the _Prometheus_ had been recaptured by Starfleet—there was no other explanation for its firing on the Romulan fleet. Despite the terror at having to report this back to Tal Shiar Headquarters, Almak did not want to stay and see the full capabilities of this new warship.

"Turn the _T'Met_ around! Retreat to the Neutral Zone immediately!"

"Sir?"

"_Do it!_"

As the warbirds turned, Almak let out an anguished cry.

Hagan beamed as the two warbirds turned around and hightailed it out of the sector.

"Should we pursue them?" a lieutenant inquired.

"Let them go. Our posts will track them. Besides, they'll tell everyone what the _Prometheus_ can do."

"Yes sir."

Hagan tapped a few keys on his chair's computer screen. The ship was still showing only 27 life signs. He turned to his first officer.

"I want you to get a security team over to the _Prometheus_ on the double. I want simultaneous beam-ins at every point where there's a Romulan on that ship."

"You got it, Captain."

Ensigns Ramirez and Pierce took no chances. They beamed onto the bridge with their compression rifles drawn, certain they would have to use them.

Instead, they were greeted with what looked like two Starfleet officers: the taller one wearing the current uniform, the shorter, balding one wearing the old blue medical uniform.

"Welcome to the Prometheus, gentlemen," said the balding one. "It's about time." Ramirez and Pierce lowered their weapons, unsure of what to make of them.

DEEP SPACE FOUR, 16 HOURS LATER

Vice Admiral Hayes couldn't exactly believe the report. The fact that that Romulans had hijacked the USS _Prometheus_ was shocking enough, and the subsequent retaking of the ship and the clash with the warbirds had been nearly too incredible to believe. But to top it all off was the matter of the EMH, something that Hayes decided he needed to see to believe. Hayes took the nearest transport to Deep Space Four, where the hologram was being held.

Hayes walked past the silent, stone-faced security man standing at attention outside the briefing room. Hayes entered his command code into a panel and the door chimed open. There, seated at the table in the dreary room, was the EMH. Hayes walked in and stood over the hologram.

"You definitely look like an old model EMH," Hayes said. The hologram rolled my eyes.

"Let me guess. Another admiral who won't believe my story. Has their been a contagious delirium epedemic floating around in the time I've been gone?"

"Hey, there's no need to get snippy." Hayes pulled out a padd and reviewed it. It contained a summary of the EMH's claims relayed on the USS _Spector_ as it delivered him to Deep Space Four.

"You say you're from the USS _Voyager_."

"Correct."

"And you say that ship's lost in the Delta Quadrant."

"Yes, we were brought there by the Caretaker three years ago. He was an alien being abducting starships throughout the galaxy in order to find a compatible species."

"Compatible? For what?"

"For procreation."

"Ah." Hayes cleared his throat and looked over the padd. Certainly this wasn't going to be easy.

"Imagine someone in my position, Mr…?"

"Just call me 'Doctor.'"

"…Imagine someone in my position, Doctor. A hologram suddenly appears on the USS _Prometheus_ as it _just so happens_ to be hijacked by Romulans. He not only retakes the ship but _helps destroy a Romulan warbird_ in the process. Furthermore, he claims he comes from a Starfleet ship that disappeared years ago and was flung 70,000 light years across the galaxy."

"Surely the _Prometheus_ EMH can vouch for me."

"Oh, he did. But that doesn't mean you're not some alien being or even a Dominion computer program. Look, the _Voyager_ was declared lost fourteen months ago; we have sworn testimony from a Cardassian gul that he saw your ship destroyed by a plasma storm in the Badlands. There are a lot of things in your story that don't add up, that are highly suspicious."

"Oh? Like what, may I ask?"

Hayes shifted in his seat. "Ok. Let's start with this 'mobile emitter' attached to your shoulder. No Starfleet technology can produce that thing."

"It's from the 29th century. I suggest you look up a man named Henry Starling, you might find some answers there."

"Uh-huh. 29th century." Hayes, incredulous, reviewed his padd. "Now let's do some general 'trivia.' Who's captain of the _Voyager_?"

The EMH sighed. "Kathryn Janeway."

"And who's first officer?"

"Lieutenant Commander Chakotay."

Hayes looked at his padd, smiling. "It's Aaron Cavit."

"Commander Cavit died when we were brought into the Delta Quadrant."

"Uh-huh. And what about the Chief Medical Officer?"

"Dr. Fitzgerald also died when we were brought into the Delta Quadrant."

"You mean _you'v_e been the only doctor on a ship for three years?"

"That is correct."

Hayes shook his head. "My God." The Doctor looked offended. As Hayes eyed the padd, suddenly his eyes lit up.

"Wait a minute. Chakotay. You mean _the_ Chakotay, the fugitive Maquis."

The Doctor put on a look of enlightenment, as if he knew how to prove his identity.

"Yes, that Chakotay."

"You mean to tell me he's the _Executive Officer_ of _Voyager_?"

"Correct."

Hayes exhaled and shook his head again, more incredulous than before. "This day keeps getting weirder…" he said to himself.

"And I think I can prove my identity now. Lieutenant Tuvok was a spy on Commander Chakotay's ship when he was still a member of the Maquis. How could I know that if both ships were destroyed in the Badlands?"

Hayes looked over the padd. The information checked out.

"And I suggest," continued the EMH, "that you ask your Cardassian sources about a Maquis operative named Seska. You'll find she wasn't exactly Bajoran."

Could it be true? Could the _Voyager_ really be lost in the Delta Quadrant? Hayes leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin. If so, the Federation would certainly mount the biggest rescue mission in its history to bring the ship back…and him being the senior Vice Admiral for the entire Alpha Quadrant, he was in a position to lead the rescue mission.

"So, the Maquis joined the _Voyager_ crew. Have they adapted well?

"Certainly. I can vouch for the character of all of them…well, maybe not Tom Paris…"

"How many of the crew have been lost?"

"About 20. We've had many skirmishes along the way."

"Really? Who calls the shots in the Delta Quadrant."

"In the beginning, there was the Kazon. Quite a violent species. Then there was the Vidians—harvested organs from the dead crewmen, very unpleasant. Of course, nothing compares to the Borg."

Hayes went white.

"Borg?"

"Oh yes," the Doctor said quite matter-of-factly. "We've run into them on several occasions. Formed an alliance with them once, even. In fact, a former Borg is a member of our crew."

Hayes coughed and looked away from the EMH. He'd heard the reports that the Borg were based in the Delta Quadrant, but now he had confirmation. He knew firsthand what they could do, as just a year earlier he was nearly killed when the Borg invaded Sector 001. If what the Doctor was saying was true—and he was pretty much now convinced that it was—he would need to know everything the _Voyager_ knew about the Borg, as well as every other Delta Quadrant threat.

"Tell you what I'm going to do," Hayes said, folding his head and leaning in on the table. "I'm going to contact Starfleet Headquarters, and you're going to tell them what you've told me. I think you're telling the truth, and I'm sure if I put in a good word for you they will, too."

"You do realize I'll have to get back to my ship fairly soon."

"It won't take long. We'll set up a subspace linkup from here."

"Very well. And you'll inform the families of _Voyager_'s crew what has happened."

"Of course."

"Thank you."

Hayes got up to leave. He was almost out the door when the EMH stood up as well.

"Admiral, perhaps there is one more bit of information you can check on."

"Oh?"

"I'm sure you'll be talking to the Romulans very shortly. No doubt you'll have much to discuss, but when you do, ask them about Dr. Telek R'Mor."

"Telek R'Mor?"

"Yes. They should know who I'm talking about."

Hayes nodded, then without a word, exited the briefing room. The EMH sat back down, full of pride that he'd done what the _Voyager_ crew had waited to do for almost three years.

DEEP SPACE FOUR BRIG, SAME TIME

Rekar awoke in the brig. He had a mild headache, which he took to be the effects of whatever gas had knocked him out. Rekar sat up on his cot. He was in a small cell, blocked off by a force field. There were no other Romulans in the cell with him. However, opposite his cell on the other side of the brig was Nevala, seated on a cot and staring directly at Rekar.

"So, Nevala, it seems we failed to anticipate the resourcefulness of Starfleet."

"_We_?" Nevala said.

"Don't try to deflect blame. You're as responsible for the mission's failure as I am."

Nevala said nothing.

"Don't try to frighten me with your silence. I don't care who your mother is, or what section of the Tal Shiar she runs. If we ever get back to Romulus, you'll be as vulnerable as I am."

"In case you're forgetting, _you_ were the one that deviated from our assigned course. _You_ wanted to meet with Subcommander Almak, a meeting I knew nothing about, and your detour cost us valuable time. Had we not diverted, we would be safely in the Neutral Zone now."

Rekar clenched his teeth and looked to the floor. This woman had attempted to counter his every move ever since he boarded the _Civish_. Now she was trying to save her own back from the inevitable Tal Shiar review! Rekar smiled. He would make certain that she did not leave this debacle unscathed.

A door chimed open. Two Starfleet men appeared, phasers clipped to their sides.

"Commander Rekar?"

Rekar scowled. "What do you want?"

"Come with us. Starfleet Intelligence has some questions to ask you."

"What could I possibly tell you that would be of use?"

One Starfleet man pressed a panel and the force field deactivated. The two men stood at attention, but put their hands close to their phasers.

"Please, Commander."

Rekar looked across the brig at Nevala. She was staring emotionless, betraying none of her thoughts. Rekar jabbed his finger at her accusingly. His attitude was more of anger than fear.

"She's the true Commander! It was her idea to attack your vessel—I was simply the pawn in her plot! She's the real prize—her mother is a Tal Shiar Director!"

"Subcommander Nevala has already explained much to us," one of the officers said, and then both men stepped into Rekar's cell and grabbed him by the shoulders. "We know you led the squad. We have a lot to ask you and you're coming with us whether you like it or not."

They hoisted him from his cot and marched him out of the brig. As they left the doorway, Rekar jerked his head back Nevala. "Traitor!" he yelled. "I'll make sure the Committee hears of your breaking under interrogation!"

Nevala paid him no notice. When the men were gone, she closed her eyes and lay down on her cot, trying to get some rest.

The Romulan government initially denied having anything to do with the seizure of the USS _Prometheus_. When Starfleet Command informed them of the 27 Romulans they had in custody, the High Command said that they were shocked, _shocked_ at this "tragic and unfortunate incident." They hastened to explain that Commander Rekar was a rogue agent acting completely outside the wishes of the Romulan Star Empire and that the Tal Shiar was in no way whatsoever connected to the incident. Furthermore, they claimed to have arrested Subcommander Almak and the crew of the two surviving warbirds which had clashed with the Starfleet vessels.

Of course, Starfleet had not identified Rekar as the Commander they had in custody.

Starfleet Command also relayed an inquiry to its Romulan counterpart: it wished to know more about Dr. Telek R'Mor, a Romulan scientist whose name had been given by an unidentified Starfleet operative. After much delay and stonewalling on this issue, the Romulans said they knew who R'Mor was, but would only give up information about him in exchange for the 27 Romulan prisoners.

It was agreed, and the exchange was carried out in the Neutral Zone just a few weeks before the Romulans joined the war against the Dominion.

The Doctor, meanwhile, was sent on his way soon after telling Starfleet Headquarters about _Voyager_. Messages were sent to all of the ship's crew informing them of the situation, and news of the ship's predicament surprised and shocked millions across the Federation. Admiral Hayes vowed to contact the _Voyager_ again soon, and Starfleet Command, meanwhile, had sent the Doctor on his way after gathering as much as they could from him. Hayes said he would try to contact _Voyager_ again soon, and announced the creation of the Pathfinder Project. Overseen by Admiral Owen Paris, the project was intended to find a way to contact the lost Starfleet vessel.

Nothing, it was said, would sand in the way of returning _Voyager_ to the Alpha Quadrant.

TAL SHIAR HEADQUATERS, ROMULUS -- STARDATE 51500.4

Rekar emerged from the turbolift onto the steel floor of Level 25. It seemed like years since he'd been here, appearing before Chariman Koval to discuss the mission. But it had only been a few weeks —before the fiasco with the _Prometheus_, and after the humiliating prisoner exchange with the Federation. A handwritten communiqué had summoned him from his home to appear at Headquarters just one day after he again set foot on Romulan soil.

Rekar's footsteps echoed as he approached the door to the Committee Chamber, and he halted when the Reman guards straightened their staffs.

"Commander Rekar," a voice boomed. "You may enter."

Rekar wondered why their had been no body scan, as happened the last time he was here. The double doors opened and Rekar hurriedly walked into the Committee Chamber. He stood at the center of a half circle table, around which sat Chairman Koval, Directors Devant, Vorick, and Lorema, and Senate Liaison Didius.

"Commander Rekar," Koval began, smiling. "We're surprised you decided to show up."

"I will always come when called, Chairman."

"Of course."

"Commander," said Vorick, "perhaps you'd like to make a statement about the mission." Vorick was head of Tal Shiar Special Operations and was Rekar's immediate superior.

"A statement? I trust you found the one I gave at my debriefing satisfactory."

"No," Koval said plainly.

This surprised Rekar. He didn't respond.

"We were informed of several...miscalculations on your part," Lorema said. Rekar cast a brief glance at her. He saw in her the face of her daughter, Nevala, and knew the two were of the same duplicitous nature.

"I see," Rekar said, swallowing. "And what might those have been?"

"Well," said Vorick, "a few of them were hardly your fault. The destruction of the _Civish_, for one."

"My crew thought it had disabled all of the ship's weapons—"

"It hadn't," Vorick said.

"I know," Rekar hastily put in.

"And then there was the matter of not transporting your nerve agent to the _Prometheus_ before the _Civish_ exploded, to indispose the Federation crew—"

"There was no time!" Rekar interrupted. He quickly shut up.

"And yet there was time for you to beam yourself over."

Rekar swallowed. He was beginning to believe he shouldn't have answered the invitation to come to headquarters.

"And, instead of indisposing the Federation crew," Lorema continued, "you ordered them all killed."

"What was I supposed to do?"

Didius finally spoke. "_You_ were defeated using a simple gaseous anesthetic found in the medical bay…why were you not so clever?"

"Even if I had kept them alive, the Federation crew would not have cooperated so easily!"

"They would if they were…_persuaded,_" Vorick said coolly, leaning back in his chair. "There were plenty of tools at your disposal.

"Yes, but—"

"The failure to leave the crew alive led to the Starfleet tracking the _Prometheus_' warp trail, thus dooming the mission."

"I destroyed a pursuing vessel!"

"_Disabled_, not destroyed," Devant said. "It sent your location on to Tileyo, where three ships were sent to intercept you."

Rekar straightened, visibly unnerved. He hadn't heard this.

"I must emphasize to the Committee that these circumstances were beyond my control and could not have been anticipated."

"One other item," Lorema said, looking at a computer screen. "You seemed to have made an arrangement with Subcommander Almak to meet ahead of the desired location in the Neutral Zone. This brought you closer to the Starfleet force."

"I don't—I didn't—"

"We've already dealt with Almak. He was most eager to state that you wanted to mold this mission into what you thought it should be, not what this Committee demanded. Your thinking cost us a warbird, not to mention the _Prometheus_."

Rekar said nothing. He was pale, hands behind his back, staring forward past Koval. He couldn't bare to look at any of the Directors. Koval leaned forward.

"We had to give up some information to get you back, Rekar. Frankly, I'm not sure it was worth it. Do you know the name Telek R'Mor? Probably not. He was a Romulan scientist who came to the High Command about twenty years ago with a very interesting story. He claimed a Federation ship had been lost in the Delta Quadrant and had made contact with him through a micro-wormhole. The ship asked him to relay messages to the Federation crew's families. Only problem was, a temporal distortion meant that the ship in question was twenty years in the future."

Rekar grimaced. The EMH had said he was from a ship in the Delta Quadrant. He of course thought the idea was absurd, but…

"Now, we kept that information for twenty years, for one because we didn't really believe us ourselves, and because we thought that if it were true we could use it as leverage against the Federation. But imagine our surprise when Starfleet wanted to know about Dr. R'Mor, who's been dead for seven years.

"Now, the EMH you encountered claimed he was from the Delta Quadrant, as you stated in your debriefing. That Starfleet requested to know about R'Mor means the EMH was from the _very same starship_ that R'Mor encountered. And what _that_ means, Commander, is that you were defeated by a hologram from a ship 60,000 light years away. Not exactly a stellar achievement to go on your record."

Rekar closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

"Commander, I assume you realize what this means about your future," Vorick said, a slight smile on his face.

"I do, Director," Rekar weakly gasped. It meant that his future consisted of returning home and finding a disruptor sitting on his table, a disruptor he was only meant to fire once.

"Good. Now, we want this matter resolved by tomorrow morning. I trust that gives you enough time to do what must be done."

"It does, Director."

"Good," Koval said. "You are dismissed, Commander Rekar."

Rekar turned. He gave one last look at Lorema, and could not help but think that her daughter Nevala was behind all of this. She would probably have his job now. Part of him wanted to leap across the table and strangle Lorema then and there, but that wouldn't have helped his legacy. He wanted to go out with dignity, like any other disgraced officer. Perhaps when they talked about him, they'll mention that he valiantly seized a Klingon vessel and later stole the Federation's most advanced ship. Yes, that's what they'll say.

He walked through the doorway and into the long corridor, the large double doors shutting loudly behind. He passed the Reman guards and thought he heard one of them rustle. The long, dark corridor was ahead of him; at the other end, the turbolift. In the middle of the corridor, when it was both pitch black in front and behind him, he heard faint footsteps behind him, and they weren't his echoing boots. Rekar stopped, knowing what was to happen, and before the Reman pike came down on his back he thought that at least he wouldn't have to be the one to do the deed.


End file.
